


Journal

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Missing Scene, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 03:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10351641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : Heavy spoilers for Childern of the Gods, some mention of Stargate, The MovieMissing scenes from Children of the Gods





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Journal

It's 3 a.m. and sleep eludes me. Guess my inner body clock is still on the Abydonian thirty-six hour cycle. I lift my hands to massage my temples, hoping to alleviate a terrible headache for which the pain pills Doctor Warner prescribed are having little effect. The mastanage herd stampeding through my brain is courtesy of Apophis who tried to punch a hole in the wall with my head. With sleep so elusive, I throw back the covers and sit up. The shadowy room is unfamiliar. Panic starts to build until I remember this is Jack O'Neill's guestroom. On Earth. Fumbling around in the dark, my hand locates the small bedside lamp and I snap it on. Soft, diffused light barely illuminates the room as I rise and cross to where my clothes are draped across a chair. Pulling the worn journal from the coveralls pocket, I return to the bed. Sitting against the backboard with my legs pulled up, I open the book. This is the first chance I've had since leaving Abydos, since losing Sha're and Skaara, to update the entries. I massage my forehead. Only five days ago, I was happy, living on a another planet, accepted by people as a scholar and mentor, sharing my life and my discoveries with Sha're. Then I unburied the Stargate and because of one bad decision, I've lost everything I had and everyone I loved. The magnitude of my loss intensified on our mission to Chulak. The reality was brutal accepting it would take longer than a few days to find both Sha're and Skaara, free them from the hell of Goa'uld possession and return to my blissful life on Abydos. I sighed. Writing has always been a salve for me. Hopefully, it will again. Putting pen to paper I begin to write. Surprisingly, the words flow easily......

My booted feet clanking on the metal ramp leading from the earth Stargate was the first sound I remembered hearing as I assisted the Captain-Doctor in dragging the injured Ferritti through the wormhole. Releasing my hold of the precious human cargo lying on the perforated metal with as much care as our rush through the Stargate would allow, I straightened looking around at a room I had never expected to see again. I shivered with the residual cold created by our molecules reforming at the event horizon. At least, that was the Captain-Doctor's explanation when I asked her about it as we had walked across the sand dunes on Abydos to my recently discovered subterranean map room. Now, it seemed a lifetime ago. This was only my second trip through the Stargate, an experience I never thought to have in my lifetime. 

Soldiers were rushing about to and fro. I spied Colonel O'Neill at the foot of the ramp talking to a stern faced, older, bald headed man. I heard snippets of the colonel narrating the recent events on Abydos, ending with the abduction of my wife and Skaara. This, I assumed, was General Hammond as I moved down the ramp toward the two military men.

"General, hi," I began, as I held out my right hand. "Daniel Jackson, we've never met," I introduced myself when I see I've garnered his attention. "I'd like to be on the team that goes after them," I insist.

Hammond glared at me with a hard stare that immediately stops me in mid utterance. "You're not in any position to make demands, Jackson," he barked at me. He brushed by me to walk up the ramp and join the Captain-Doctor and the medical corpsman gathered around the wounded Ferritti.

Being blunt apparently was not my best modus operandi. I hadn't been so systematically ignored and put in my place for a long time. It was a hurtful feeling, one I'd never expected to experience again. And I never would have on Abydos. Apparently, here on Earth, I was once again relegated to the status of unimportant, ignored and ostracized. It was even more disquieting to receive the same dismissal from the general I had also received from the Colonel when he so recently returned to Abydos. I asked myself, if I was so unimportant, then why was I forced to return? As the medical staff gathered the wounded soldiers and began rushing out of the gateroom, I found myself herded along with them. 

A short time later, our group entered the base infirmary. I was jostled and pushed to one side by more medical personnel-I assumed the gray haired man in the white lab coat was a doctor. I decided it would be best, for the moment, if I just made myself small and unnoticed. I wedged myself into a dim corner, my arms crossed tightly before me, my habitual protective self-defensive posture. I'm not sure how long I was there before the doctor noticed me. He came over his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"And you are."

"Daniel Jackson." When he continued to stare at me in non-comprehension, I resumed speaking. "Umm, Colonel O'Neill brought me back from Abydos through the Stargate."

"Well, you need to have a full medical examination. Regulations. But, perhaps," he looked at me with some annoyance, "you'd better clean up first."

The doctor stopped a passing corpsman. "Take this man to the shower and have him cleaned up. And better put those clothes in bio hazard bags."

"Yes, sir."

So just like that, I was again dismissed. I allowed the corpsman to lead me by the arm to a secluded area of the infirmary where a small bathroom with a shower was located. He set a folded towel, a chunky bar of soap and one of those skimpy hospital gowns on a stool. 

"Here you are, sir. When you're done, put this on," he instructed, holding out the unfolded gown.

"Um, okay, yeah . Thank you," I stuttered to his retreating back as he closed the door. 

Standing in this tiny military base bathroom, staring at the rough chunk of soap in my hand, I suddenly began to realize, and comprehend, the reality of my current situation. My wife had been unfairly and cruelly taken from me, along with my young brother-in-law. The life of happiness and respect I had built on Abydos over the past year was in shambles. Finally, I was returned to a planet that had no need for me, or I for it. I had lost everything. Again. I began to feel my eyes stinging and the devastation rising within me when I heard a plop on the floor. Looking down, I saw this field journal had fallen from its place of concealment in my Abydonian robes. I bent to retrieve it. Clutching it tightly, I regained control of myself. This was my lifeline to my existence. I had to hold on, or I would never get Sha're, Skaara, or my life on Abydos, back. Resolution made, I set the journal aside and began to undress.

Somehow I managed to disrobe, take the shower and put on that embarrassing hospital gown. I endured the physical by keeping my thoughts and eyes focused on this journal never letting it out of my sight. Once the physical was completed, I was given ill-fitting military clothes consisting of a black T-shirt, baggy olive green coveralls and boots to wear and was, once again, ignored. I was grateful, however, to be given an new pair of unbroken glasses. 

Unwilling to sit in the infirmary looking woefully pathetic, I clutched my journal to me and walked out unnoticed into the dim corridor. I meandered through the myriad corridors of the under ground base oblivious to where I was going or where I had come from. No one questioned me nor did I see any familiar faces in my travels, except for a glance of Kawalski sitting vigil at Ferritti's bedside as I passed by the infirmary. It was a tableau I did not want to intrude on. We were currently in limbo, waiting until Ferritti regained consciousness and could hopefully tell us the gate address. 

Finally nearing physical exhaustion, I paused in yet another featureless dim corridor and leaned against the cold, concrete wall and surrendered to the oppression, allowing it to overwhelm me. I was truly alone once again. I had lost Sha're, most likely forever. How could I search for her if I couldn't even find General Hammond to plead my case? I also believed I was entitled to an explanation as to why he had ordered Colonel O'Neill to return me to Earth. I wasn't military, after all, and I was more than annoyed at his uninvited interference in my life.

It was at this moment, the voice of salvation cleaved through my emotional turmoil.

"Hey."

I started at the sound and looked up to find the human source. It was Colonel O'Neill, no longer dressed in his military field uniform but in civilian clothes. I quickly dropped my gaze. I didn't want him to see how my world was crumbling around me. I wanted to wallow in my sorrow in solitude. I also knew it would be impolite to ignore him so I gave him a reply, a truthful one.

"They don't know what to do with me and I don't know what to do with myself." I favored him with a half smile and tried to put some amusement in the words, but failed miserably. I assumed answer given, Jack would leave, continue to wherever he was headed when he had seen me. After all, it had been made clear upon my return to Earth, I wasn't much use to anyone, that I wasn't worth the effort.

"C'mon."

I couldn't believe I had heard the invitation. I looked up to the waiting colonel in disbelief. 

"C'mon," Jack repeated the invitation. "Let's get out of here." He cocked his head and waved at me to follow him as he began walking down an intersecting hallway.

Somehow I got my legs and feet moving and shuffled after him following in his wake to where he stood in the open elevator car, holding the door open for me. Head bowed, I shuffled in and stood in silence beside him staring intently at the floor and tightly clutching this journal hidden underneath the flap of my coveralls. 

The elevator doors closed and I felt the car begin its long journey upward. As I recalled, we would stop about half way to the surface, disembark, pass through a security checkpoint, and then take a second elevator to groundlevel. 

"I see your wardrobe's changed," Jack said, opening the conversation.

Startled at hearing his voice, I looked over to see Jack was grinning. "Oh, yeah." I tugged at the ill fitting, one-size-too-large coveralls, pulling out my journal from where I had kept it concealed. "They took away my clothes. Put them in a bio hazard bag?"

Jack's grin became a smile. At that moment, I realized I had never really seen him smile with such warmth. "Well, Doctor Jackson, they were a bit rank. You were just probably used to it, didn't notice."

"Oh," I agreed and became silent.

"What's that?" He pointed to the journal

"My field journal." I held it out for him to see. "Sort of a diary." I drew it back to me. "It's all I have left of home at the moment." I realized that sounded very pathetic and saw Jack's smile fade to be replaced by what I deduced was an expression of guilt. 

When the elevator stopped a minute later, the door slide open and I followed Jack out. He went to a desk behind which an MP sat and scribbled on a clipboard. I noticed two additional MP's standing at attention before a second elevator. Jack straightened and began to move towards it. I obediently followed.

"Sir, I must ask that you sign out."

I knew the MP was addressing me and I turned to face him. "I'm, um, what?"

"Oh, fer crying out loud," I heard muttered before Jack walked by me to address the seated soldier. "He can't sign out, airman, as he never signed in. At least, not recently," he amended.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. The two MPs stationed at the elevator quickly advanced and grabbed me, guns drawn. 

"Hey, he's harmless. Stand down, airmen," Jack ordered in his hard edged colonel tone of voice. Neither soldier obeyed. He then looked at me. "Sorry about this. I've only been back in the game myself for two days. Security, red tape, you know."

"Look, Colonel, I don't want to be a bother---" I began, but was ignored as Jack reached over and picked up the phone and punched in a few buttons.

"Call me Jack," he corrected before he began speaking into the handset. "General Hammond, sir, Colonel O'Neill. Yes, sir I'm on my way home. I decided to take Doctor Jackson with me. He's not a security risk, sir. What can he do? He's literally homeless. He's got nothing." 

At this last, he turned to look at me, his apology expressed on his face at the poor choice of words. They were true, but it still hurt all the same. And I knew he hadn't meant to be cruel. 

"I'll take full responsibility for him, General. I guarantee he'll be here for the briefing tomorrow morning. Thank you, sir. Can you have the word passed on to the remaining security checkpoints so I won't have to keep calling you? Thank you, sir." Conversation ended, he hung up the phone.

"Okay, you heard the General, he's with me," Jack addressed the MPs.

This time they did obey, releasing me. I signed the clipboard. Jack took my arm and guided me into the second elevator.

"Really, Colonel, er Jack, I appreciate the gesture, but you don't have to do this," I said, as the doors slide shut and he released my arm. I found it odd to call him by his first name. We had never really been friendly or this informal during our first mission to Abydos.

"Look, Daniel, " he began, facing me, "I hauled your ass from Abydos through the Stargate back here to Earth. Not something you were particularly willing to do, as I recall. The way I see it, that makes you my responsibility. Besides, you're technically still a member of my team, same as Ferritti and Kawalski. You shouldn't be aimlessly wandering around this base. And I take full blame for not keeping tabs on you. I know it's lame, but I'm sorry you were pretty much left to fend for yourself. So, you're not a bother. I want to help. You shouldn't have to be going through this hell alone. Believe me, I know. I've got a spare room at my house, you're more than welcome to make use of. Okay?"

I was so stunned I couldn't speak for a moment. Very few times in my life had someone offered to help me, to indicate they may be concerned for me. I looked at Jack and saw this was not done out of pity, but as he said, a sense of responsibility and the willingness to offer aide to someone in need. "Okay."

"Good."

Silently, we rode in the elevator upward, finally arriving topside. The remaining security checkpoints were not an obstacle and we walked from the mountain base into the fading sunset. The mountain air was fresh and crisp. Everything looked so green. I promptly began sneezing.

"Bless," Jack said, magically producing and handing me a tissue.

As I blew my nose, he guided me to a black Jeep, opened the passenger door and went around to the driver side.

The jeep ride from Cheyenne Mountain was a blur. I know I spent most of it staring out the window, barely noticing the mountain scenery passing by. Suddenly, I again felt the realization of the destruction of my life crashing down around me. This time my eyes began watering. I squeezed them shut but not before some moisture escaped and trickled down my cheek. I must have sobbed as well, because a strong hand gripped my left shoulder in comfort, grounding me.

"There's more Kleenex in the glove compartment, if you need it."

"Thanks," I muttered. I fumbled with the latching device, finally getting it open and taking out a small packet of tissue. I blew my nose again and lifted my glasses to wipe at my tearing eyes. "Sorry," I apologized, truly embarrassed. The hand squeezed my shoulder again then lifted away.

"No need. In fact, I'm impressed you've held it together this long. God knows, you've got every right to be emotional. Hell, I am."

I glanced at Jack's profile in the fading daylight. It was sharp, strong and determined. Then I suddenly realized. "Oh, Jack, I'm sorry. Skaara. How could I-"

"Daniel, it's okay. I think having your wife abducted and having your whole existence yanked away from you is little more traumatic than me temporarily losing Skaara." He paused, gave me a determined look then concentrated on driving. "And this is temporary. I want you to believe that. We will find them."

"I believe you," I replied. How can I disagree in the presence of all this confidence and self-assurance? And I won't give up hope of succeeding. It's all I have to cling to right now.

"Good." We turned off the highway and entered a subdivision of nice houses with well-manicured lawns. "Almost there. You drink beer, Daniel?"

"Ahh, well, I."

"Sure you do," Jack continued, as we turn down yet another residential street. "Hell, you drank that rotgut moonshine of Skaara's. We'll have a beer, or two, and you can tell me everything that happened after I left Abydos."

The Jeep turned into a driveway and came to a stop. He turned to look at me. I wasn't sure talking was what I wanted to do at the moment, but I knew he was making the offer because he thought it was what I needed to do. So, to be the polite guest I should honor my host. Besides, Kasuf would have been greatly disappointed in my bad manners and the shame that would have brought upon his family if I refused.

"Sure. Drink beer and talk. Okay." 

We both exited the Jeep and I followed Jack into his house certain I looked like a lost puppy following some kind, sympathetic soul home.

Once inside, Jack guided me toward the dining room, pointing to a chair at the table. 

"Have a seat," he said. I obeyed, setting my journal on the wooden surface of the table. I watched as Jack picked up his phone. "How does pizza sound?" he asked, dialing.

Eating wasn't exactly something I wanted to do at the moment, either. "Well....I, I'm not really--"

"Hey, Daniel. You can't drink beer on an empty stomach. What kinda host would I be if I did that? You'd end up puking in my bathroom all night long." Jack grinned. 

I know he was trying to distract me from my troubles with this light banter. And how could I argue with such logic. Despite my sorrow, I did appreciate the gesture. "Okay. Pizza is good," I conceded.

Jack spoke into the phone and placed the order: two medium pepperoni with extra cheese and delivery to his house. Order placed, he hung up the phone.

"Okay. Next. See if I can find you something to sleep in tonight and something else to wear tomorrow. I hate to tell you this Daniel, but you look a disgrace to the Air Force in that outfit."

"Well, yeah," I agreed looking down at my rumpled, baggy coveralls. "But I'm not military."

Jack actually chuckled. "Not military. That's a good one, Jackson," he said as he disappeared down the dark hallway.

Removing my glasses, I set them on top of my journal. I placed my elbows on the table and rested my head in my hands. I'm not sure how much timed passed. I vaguely recall hearing Jack moving about muttering to himself accompanied by banging and shifting noises as I assumed he was preparing the guestroom for my use. My reverie was broken when the doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived.

I lifted my head, fumbled for my glasses, placing them on my nose before blinking owlishly to refocus my vision. I caught a glimpse of Jack's face, a combined look of regret and sympathy as he stood in the entryway by the front door. He turned away to open the front door and take delivery of the pizza. As I saw him exchange the two cardboard boxes for money, I was again reminded I was no longer on Abydos. I didn't have a cent to my name. The steamed odor of cardboard and hot pizza wafted through the dining room towards me. My stomach reacted to the stimulus by growling loudly. 

Jack heard the rumbling and smiled as he sat the boxes on the table. "See, I told you you'd be hungry. I'll get the beer."

"Ah, could I have coffee instead?" I hadn't had coffee since I had gone to Abydos. I never thought I could live without it until I had to. But, now, I would give anything to taste it once more.

"Coffee? With pizza?" Jack was incredulous. "No, beer tonight, coffee in the morning. Whether you want to hear it or not, you do need to get some sleep. You have to be coherent for the briefing tomorrow morning," he explained before going into the kitchen. 

"Ah, yes, about the briefing," I began.

"Ah, aha, ah," Jack scolded, returning from the kitchen with two bottles of cold beer, two plates and some silverware. "Eat first, drink beer, we get caught up. Then, we'll talk about the briefing. Try to relax, Daniel," he advised, sitting opposite me. "Believe me, I do know the hurt you're feeling right now. You probably want to be off by yourself and that's okay, for later. For now, I just want you to remember you're not alone. It's not something you should have to deal with on your own. Besides," he continued handing me a plate of hot pizza, "I owe you."

I took the plate and set it down. It also gave me the excuse I needed to rub away the moisture again threatening to fall from my eyes. 

"So," Jack continued, ignoring my slight breakdown, "tell me how you found that map room."

Somehow, around mouthfuls of pizza and swallows of beer, I managed to tell Jack about finding the map room and about my life on Abydos. I was surprised at how easy the words came. Talking, like writing, had always been one of my strengths, especially when I had a willing audience. It's only now, as I write of these events, I realized as long as I spoke in generalities, never once mentioning Sha're or Skaara by name, the words came. In hindsight, Jack was right. I needed to talk. It didn't lesson my pain, but it was comforting to have the proverbial shoulder to lean on. I just never expected that shoulder to belong to Jack O'Neill. I had no concept the hard assed Colonel O'Neill, who lead the first mission to Abydos, could have a sensitive side and show concern for someone he barely knew. Granted, we had shared a rather fantastic and harrowing experience, but should his caring now be such a surprise? On Abydos, Jack had interceded on my behalf, deflecting the soldiers' anger when I confessed I couldn't get us back home to Earth. Jack was the one who came to find me when the mastandage took me on my unwilling tour of Abydos. And in the ensuing battles with Ra, Jack made certain I was close within his circle of protection. So, no, the caring shouldn't be a surprise, just maybe the extent of it.

When the pizza was nearly gone, I realized Jack had been right. I was hungry. We stood and Jack motioned me to go down into the living room while he went to get more beer. I finished off my first bottle of beer as I took in the furnishings and items arrayed in the room. I wandered over to the fireplace fascinated with the array of framed or mounted military awards, citations and medals I saw displayed on the mantel. Jack was a very decorated soldier. I was impressed. I knew he was one of the bravest men I had ever met, but I had no idea. 

"So, did you have a big party after Kawalski, Ferritti and I left?" he called out from the kitchen.

"Ah, yes, a big party," I answered then began sneezing again. I quickly set the empty beer bottle on the mantle and placed my journal on a coffee table before retrieving the packet of tissue from a pocket. Jack arrived in the midst of me loudly blowing my nose. 

"Nice catch," he commented dryly, handing me a second beer when I was done. 

"Thank you. Gate travel seems to make my allergies." I trailed off. It was a pathetic joke but Jack graciously smiled at it anyway. He went over and sat in a couch. 

"So you were saying," he encouraged.

"Anyway, as soon as you were gone, they realized they were free, that Abydos was their world for the taking."

"Have a big party, did ya?"

"Oh, yeah. Big, big party. They treated me like some sort of savior." I felt my face blushing even as I revealed this fact. " It was embarrassing."

"Amazing you turned out so normal." 

I felt my face blush deeper at the very thought. "Well, if it wasn't for Sha're, I'd probably.." My voice faltered. The tide of emotion the speaking of her name flooded through me. Weak kneed, I knew I needed to sit down before I fell down and embarrassed myself in front of Jack. I found salvation in a large chair. My emotions again under control, I found I could resume speaking. "She was the complete opposite of everyone else. She practically fell on the floor laughing every time I tried to do something they all took for granted. Like, grinding yaffeta flour. Have you ever tried to grind your own flour?"

"Ah, I'm trying to give up the flour thing."

I smiled at Jack's dry wit. This was another facet of his personality I had not seen on Abydos. I was beginning to realize there was much more to Colonel Jonathan O'Neill than the hard nose soldier, intent on committing suicide, who had accompanied me through the Stargate over a year ago.

I took a sip of my beer. I really hate beer but, again, it would have been impolite to refuse to drink it. "This is going straight to my head," I rushed out, feeling slightly buzzed. "What time is it, anyway? I must have gatelag or something." Another jolt of emotion ran through me.

"For crying out loud, Daniel," Jack said with humor, "You've had one beer. You're a cheaper date than my wife was."

Wanting to move the discussion away from my missing wife, I latched onto this opening. "Ah, yes, when will I meet your wife?" I asked, not certain I should have done so. It had not occurred to me until that moment that I had not seen any of the feminine touches one would expect to see in a home occupied by a married couple. And I hadn't seen any family photographs, either.

Jack's face darkened and I knew I had made a bad judgement call. But then he said, "Ah, well, probably, never." He paused before continuing. "After I came back from Abydos the first time, she'd already left."

He became silent. I saw the pain on his lean face and knew he rarely spoke of this hurt to anyone, much less someone he barely knew. I should have remained silent, but I couldn't ignore the hurt of this man, the only person in these past few days who had shown me kindness. And it seemed we now had something in common: missing wives.

"I'm sorry," was all I could think to say. 

"Yeah, so was I. I think in her heart she forgave me for what happened to our kid but she could never forget."

"And what about you?" I prompted.

"I'm the opposite. I can never forgive myself. But, sometimes I can forget. Sometimes." He toasted me with his beer bottle before taking a large swig. It wasn't difficult for me to ascertain how he managed to do the forgetting. And I knew the depths that self-blame could drive him to. All I had to do was remember what he had planned to do on Abydos the first time.

Okay, so we had traveled into territory we would rather not be in. I decided I should steer this conversation somewhere else.

"So, Jack, was there a celebration when you, Kawalski and Ferritti came back through the Stargate? "

"Well, kind of, " Jack said, his mood lightening at the change of conversation. "Actually, General West was surprised as hell any of us came back through the gate alive. I can't imagine why, since he was responsible for rigging the bomb so we couldn't deactivate it. We had a memorial service for those who didn't come back, including you, I wrote my official report, lied about you being alive, quit smoking and promptly took early retirement from the Air Force."

I glanced back over to the military awards and citations, surprised, then looked back to Jack. "Retired?" Jack did not seem the retirement type. He was a man of action.

"I had a lot of thinking to do. You," he pointed the beer bottle at me, "convinced me I should do that. So, I retired, bought myself a nice telescope, built a viewing platform on the garage and set about contemplating my navel during the day and stargazing at night. I had one of the techs at the base show me where the star for Abydos was so I could check it out. Every night I saw it was still there, so I knew Abydos was still there, Skaara and the boys were still there and so were you."

To say I was stunned was an understatement. "Really," I finally managed to voice. This man was more and more intriguing me.

"Which reminds me," Jack continued, "I have your stuff. You'll find it in the closet in the guestroom. They were going to throw it away but General West let me take it."

"Oh,...well, thanks."

"Oh, yeah, I went and saw Katherine, returned the medallion to her. I told her you were alive, contrary to what my official report said. She was very pleased to hear that and very pleased for you. She was the only living soul I told."

"Well, thank you for telling her. I owe Katherine a lot."

We became silent. I sipped on my beer as I watched Jack finish off his and retrieve a third bottle from the kitchen. I wondered if three bottles of beer was overdoing it considering we had to be at the base early the next morning for the briefing but decided Jack would know his limit. He certainly didn't need me nagging him about his lifestyle. I waited until he had returned before I spoke. "So, you became unretired to come back through the Stargate to Abydos."

"Yeah. The gate was being decommissioned. Or it was, until our glowing-eyed friend came through. That's why General West was replaced by General Hammond."

"Ahhh, yeah. About General Hammond. How can I convince him to allow me on the team so I can search for Sha're and Skaara?"

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, Daniel, you're on my team. Heck, you've never really left my team. I don't go through the Stargate unless Daniel Jackson goes with me. Hell, you're my good luck charm."

"Oh? I am?" To say I was dumbfounded at this declaration, was a definite understatement. Perhaps, it was the beer talking, not Jack. But looking at him I knew he believed it, so I should as well.

"Right. Every trip I've made through so far I've survived cos you were with me. Look Daniel," Jack leaned forward. "The general's not too pleased with me right now either. He's a by-the-book commander. Took exception to me lying on my official report. But he's also fair-minded and has a clear understanding of right and wrong. You jumping in his face in the gateroom when we got back was not a good move. He doesn't know you like I do. Look, you'll be at the briefing tomorrow. I'll support your request to be on the team. Together, we should be able to convince him. Assuming, that is, Ferritti saw those gate symbols and we have someplace to go to."

Jack was right, of course. I should have acted differently. But, I was just so worried about finding Sha're.. I sighed loudly. "Well, okay. Thanks, Jack," I offered. I was glad for his offer of help. The painful reality was suddenly very clear: I would need assistance in my search. And I would be the lone civilian enmeshed in a top-secret military operation. I needed a champion to foster my cause. And having Jack be that champion, and willing to do so on my behalf, was more comforting at that moment than I could ever tell him. 

"Is Ferritti going to be okay?" I asked, realizing I had been so absorbed in my own sorrows to even think of the wounded soldier.

"Yeah, Doc said he was going to make it."

Relieved, I sipped my tepid beer and felt tired and emotionally drained. I sighed loudly as my fingers rubbed at my burning eyes. It had been a trying time. But I doubted I could sleep despite drinking two bottles of beer. I looked over to Jack, hopefully with an expression of gratitude. 

He smiled at me then looked at his wristwatch. "It's late. You must be tired. C'mon, I'll show you the guestroom," he said rising. I did the same and was not as steady on my feet as he was. I bent over slowly to retrieve my journal only to straighten and find Jack standing at my side, taking my arm to steady and guide me.

"Yeah, a cheaper date than my wife." He smiled at me, a warm, friendly smile. "C'mon." I allowed him to lead me to the guestroom. 

I was actually grateful for his physical support. It was a comfort to know I apparently had someone to lean on, someone who was overseeing my best interests, someone who was offering to be a friend, someone who could be bothered to be concerned for, and about, me. Still, it was an odd feeling. And odder still having that someone be Jack O'Neill.

To my surprise, I fell asleep almost instantly and woke only when Jack roused me the next morning. I could tell from his smug expression he loved it when he was right.

Just as he promised, Jack supported my request to be included on SG-1. General Hammond was against it, but Jack insisted. Ferritti, thankfully, did see the gate address and we traveled through the Stargate. The journey to the planet designated as Chulak was interesting, painful and unsuccessful as far as rescuing Sha're and Skaara. I'll write about that mission -- and Teal'c -- at a later time. The memory is too raw, the wound of failure too open right now for me to deal with. 

I'm back after taking more of the pain pills. I'm beginning to feel the medicine take effect, lessening my headache and bringing on drowsiness. But I need to finish this entry before I again try to sleep. As I wrote at the beginning of this entry, Jack has taken me under his wing, allowing me to stay here in his home until I get resettled on Earth. As he said, as long as I don't leave my dirty underwear on the bathroom floor, we'll get along fine. He even bought a coffee grinder so I can grind and brew my own coffee. He's working on getting me declared "undead" so I can collect my year's work of consulting fees from the military. As he argued before General Hammond, since I didn't die, and I didn't come back to Earth, my year on Abydos was spent in research for the Stargate project. Therefore, the Air Force, as Jack said, "Owed me big bucks, with interest." 

The reality is I'm staying on Earth for a long time, at least a year. I have to confess I'm eager to see what wonders await us on the other side of the Stargate and pray I will be reunited with Sha're and Skaara while doing it. The work on this project will keep me busy. I need to re-establish myself as a real person in the eyes of the government and society. I need to see Katherine eventually. Jack is going to train me in basic military field operations. And he's going to teach me how to handle and fire a sidearm. No member of an SG team travels through the gate unarmed. I'm not comfortable with this but I realize I need to be able to defend myself, but more importantly, protect my teammates, if the need arises. Through all of this, I am seeing more and more facets of the person who is Jack O'Neill. He's reached out to me and I've taken what he's offered. This could become a very interesting friendship. Since I don't have friends, it could be my only friendship.

Sha're is gone. Jack says we'll find her. If anyone can, he can. I have to believe that, believe in him. Because I don't have anything else to believe in right now.

**The End**

  


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> This story is not meant to infringe upon Lex's excellant Journal Series. I did write this in February, it just took this  
> long to get it betaed and fleshed out for posting to the list. Thanks to Val and Joyce for beta help and all around support. My first attempt at writing Daniel's POV.
> 
> Feedback welcome to the above email address. Please be firm but kind.

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>   
> © July 5, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television,   
> Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd.   
> Partnership.  
> This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment.   
> All other characters, the story idea and the story itself   
> are the sole property of the author.   
> 

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